Frances Ridley Havergal

British poet and hymn-writer (1836-1879)

Frances Ridley Havergal (December 14 1836June 3 1879) was an English religious poet and hymn writer. Thy Life for Me is one of her best known hymns. She also wrote hymn melodies, religious tracts, and works for children.

Oh, give Thine own sweet rest to me,
That I may speak with soothing power
A word in season, as from Thee,
To weary ones in needful hour.

Quotes

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  • Oh to be my verse an answering gleam from higher radiance caught
    • Prelude to The Ministry of Song, James Nisbet & Co, 1879.
  • ....We write our lives indeed, But in a cipher none can read, Except the author
    • Autobiography (poem by Frances Havergal).

Dictionary of Burning Words of Brilliant Writers (1895)

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Quotes reported in Josiah Hotchkiss Gilbert, Dictionary of Burning Words of Brilliant Writers (1895).

  • What He tells thee in the darkness,
    Weary watcher for the day,
    Grateful lip and heart should utter
    When the shadows flee away.
    • P. 10.
  • Teach us, Master, how to give
    All we have and are to Thee;
    Grant us, Saviour, while we live,
    Wholly, only Thine to be.
    • P. 159.
  • Doubt indulged soon becomes doubt realized.
    • P. 195.
  • If washed in Jesus' blood,
    Then bear His likeness too,
    And as you onward press
    Ask, "What would Jesus do?"
    • P. 251.
  • Only, stay by his side
    Till the page is really known,
    It may be we failed because we tried
    To learn it all alone,
    And now that He would not let us lose
    One lesson of love
    (For He knows the loss,) — can we refuse?
    • P. 377.
  • Jesus, Master, I am Thine;
    Keep me faithful, keep me near;
    Let Thy presence in me shine
    All my homeward way to cheer.
    Jesus, at Thy feet I fall,
    Oh, be Thou my All in All.
    • P. 398.
  • Earthly joy can take but a bat-like flight, always checked, always limited, in dusk and darkness. But the love of Christ breaks through the vaulting, and leads us up into the free sky above, expanding to the very throne of Jehovah, and drawing us still upward to the infinite heights of glory.
    • P. 399.
  • It is not that I feel less weak, but Thou
    Wilt be my strength. It is not that I see
    Less sin, but more of pardoning love in Thee,
    And all-sufficient grace. Enough! And now
    All fluttering thought is stilled; I only rest,
    And feel that Thou art near, and know that I am blest.
    • P. 447.
  • I take this pain, Lord Jesus,
    From Thine own hand;
    The strength to bear it bravely
    Thou wilt command.
    I am too weak for effort,
    So let me rest,
    In hush of sweet submission
    On Thine own breast.
    • P. 513.
  • Oh, give Thine own sweet rest to me,
    That I may speak with soothing power
    A word in season, as from Thee,
    To weary ones in needful hour.
    • P. 515.
  • All the lessons He shall send
    Are the sweetest:
    And His training, in the end,
    Is completest.
    • P. 587.
  • Upon Thy word I rest.
    So strong, so sure:
    So full of comfort blest,
    So sweet, so pure —
    The word that changeth not, that faileth never!
    My King, I rest upon Thy word forever.
    • P. 599.
  • Jesus, my life is Thine,
    And ever more shall be
    Hidden in Thee,
    For nothing can untwine
    Thy life from mine.
    • P. 610.
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